When you need a lift, a phone moan to a good pal is great therapy
THERE'S nothing like it for women. For us it's better than a sex line. When you call a girl friend for a phone moan you get an orgasmic sense of release from all the pent-up frustrations being in the 21st century holds.
In 2012, living will be one of our tightest fits yet.
We're not going to have money. We're not going to have fun. We're not going to have prospects. Some of us mightn't even have homes. But at least we have each other.
Phone moaning at this dark and dreadful time of year brings a sense of energy and purpose into a year that began lacklustre at best.
I called a friend when I saw the first item of news on January 2 was how house prices had fallen to a record low.
"Do they think we don't know this?" I asked. "Do they think we don't have enough cop on to know our keys are worth more than the front door we put them into? Why do they remind us?"
"Because it's our job to," said the friend, who is a TV journalist. "This week I'm working on a dreadful court case waiting for a verdict, a piece about the property tax and who's paid and who hasn't and researching a piece on debt crisis. I go home after that lot to pick up red bills on my hall-door carpet. I can't even afford cut-price wine to take the edge off the situation."
"I'm on a detox, though I'm failing to see the point of it," I whinged. "There are enough toxins in the atmosphere to start a plague."
"We have to believe it's going to get better," responded my friend. I could see her grim smile on the other end of line. "Give me one of your quotes, before I top myself."
I pulled out the notebook of inspiration phrases I keep in my bag and chose one at random. "The thirst after happiness is never extinguished in the heart." Rousseau.
"Beautiful," she breathed down the line.
That was it. We'd turned the thing around to see the reality. We won't let our creative hearts be defeated.
Liveline is living proof of the success of phone moaning. For 30-odd years the nation has called Marian or Joe to let off steam about life, the universe, the pot hole on their cul de sac, parking, charges, your man next door and a faulty washing machine that the shop wouldn't take back. These are the things great radio is made of.
We are never beaten by the big things as much as the accumulations of little things.
Phone moaning, if you have a broadband bundle, is a free or very cheap way of releasing chagrin. What we're really saying is: "Will it get any better?" And if we're truly connected to the person we're letting off steam to, they will say yes. They will give you some sort of silver lining once the vent has been sent skywards.
The danger is those who love to moan and cannot move past the giving out stage. I stay away from those people who put nails into your cross.
I like to phone moan to those who will be capable of turning it around with me, as I do with them. A few minutes ago I put the phone down having phone moaned with one of my angels who said: "I'm turning a bad boss into a learning situation, I'm proud of myself because she hasn't beaten me."
And she won't.
I was walking on a beautiful fresh day, with scenery and a soulmate, and I felt a sudden charge of feeling run right through me.
It took me a while to determine this was happiness.
Suzanne's search for happiness is documented in Heart Lines, her biography, in bookshops now or order from Londubh Press