This week I'm mostly loving...

Dr. Who. David Tennant manages to play a time-travelling genius with more than a hint of the unhinged, but somehow makes him sexy, human and has every loveable feature of everyone-in- the-world-ever's best mate. And, despite the fact the doctor's assistant is inevitably placed in huge life-threatening danger in every single episode, they never seem to think he's a monumental pain in the arse. Conversely, he never seems to bitch about them getting themselves into life-threatening danger and irritatingly expecting him to sort it out for them, either. Plus, who better to have on your pub quiz team?

The fact I no longer watch Eastenders. Why in God's name are the Mitchells so damn proud of their 'faahmillee vahlyoos' when the bunch of them appear to be the biggest collection of machiavellian, amoral, self-centred, psychotic, drunk, cheating, lying, arrogant, violent and sadistic fuckheads to ever grace this earth. There appears to be a fractional shred of goodness between the lot of them, and that is apparantly shared round each character alternately, so we only ever get to see a multi-dimensional Peggy Mitchell about once a decade. That, of course, applies to EVERY Eastenders character - but especially applies to anyone of an ethnic origin other than white east-londoner.

Sedatives in the operating theatre. It's like being drunk, but with no hangover. Lovely. Not quite sure if, like when I'm drunk, I loudly mentioned the nice arse on the male nurse. I might have. I can't quite remember. But who cares?

Cups of tea. Who doesn't? But how much nicer is a cup of tea after enforced starvation? And somehow, somehow, the mere existence of tea makes everything just lovely...

Cottages in Gloucestershire. Cottages anywhere are fab. Who wants to live in some rather dull identikit terraced house carefully designed and churned out by Barratt homes? OK, so you get the straight walls and fitted carpets and innoffensive decor of a new home, but where's the cozy eccentricity of something old and slightly decrepit? Give me old and slightly higgledy-piggledy over shiny and new any day. As for cottages in rural Gloucestershire - well, anything overlooking lakes or hills can't possibly be disappointing, can it?

Alan Davies trying to do maths. Its almost funnier than QI, but vastly more educational. Plus, its always fab to see the poodle-haired funnyman trying to look intelligent and passing himself off as more like a bemused puppy eating a wasp.

Hungarian Goulash. The main advantage of even the briefest hospital visit is being able to demand, upon return home, a variety of yummy foodstuffs I would ordinarily have been refused on the grounds of taking too much time or being too unhealthy. Hence the fact I have been able to demand hungarian goulash (a childhood comfort food) and cold ambrosia custard, although not at the same time, of course.