Why I love 'House' but think SATC2 sucked...
Four weeks post-partum and I’ve been dismayed to discover that my seemingly miraculous recovery from wine-addiction was entirely fictitious, brought about solely from the pregnancy hormones swamping my body. As the hormones slowly ebb, the love affair with the grape flows and I find myself once more enslaved to that glass or two each night as I settle down in front of House ; series 1 and 2 of which I recently downloaded and have been watching obsessively ever since (who would have thought Blackadder's Prince Thickie would make such a brilliant, curmudgeonly American MD?) As a result of my 3 episodes a night habit, I’ve become somewhat of an expert on diagnostic medicine and am prone to pronounce ‘it’s got to be lupus ’ every time someone in my house has a sniffle. On the positive side, my penchant for the hot chocolate and apple crumble served up in my local ‘Shakespeare’ cafe has subsided giving my girth a fighting chance of fitting into my newly acquired wardrobe this side ...