Answering questions about yourself isn't vain...

Hello.
I wrote you all something fairly long a few days ago, so to make up for it, here's a sad excuse for a post made up of questions I found and answered, because I'm a teeny bit self indulgent and I like talking about myself, sometimes.
Enjoy. I know I did.
I'll make up for this at the weekend, swear.


First name?
Elizabeth.

Middle name?
Alice.

Do you ever wish you had another name?
I used to a lot.

Do you like anyone?
Myehhh.....

What's the best feeling in the world?
Listening to incredible music really loud, thinking you're in love and being all full of hope, being at a concert and all alive where everyone is feeling the same, or a combination of all those three. The first few bites of a roast dinner when you're really, really hungry.

Worst feeling?
Death, maybe?

How much cash do you have on you?
None, I'm in my bedroom.

What's a word that rhymes with "DOOR"?!
More!

Favourite planet?
Haven't been to many, it's pretty nice here on Earth, isn't it?

What kind of shoes are you wearing?
I'm not wearing any shoes. ;)

What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sitting around on my computer.

Favourite age you have been so far?
I've liked being fourteen. Eight was also a good year.

What shirt are you wearing?
Grey Imogen Heap t-shirt I bought from the RAH. It has birds on. I like it a lot. Last week I thought it was lost but my mum found it a few days ago, because she's awesome.

What are you listening to right now?
Oddly, complete silence. The last music I listened to was Kate Havnevik a few hours ago, and then some Imogen Heap before that.

What is your favourite number?
42.

What is the last thing you ate?
A chocolate coin.

How is the weather right now?
Nothing-y. It looks like it's pretty cold.

Who is the last person you talked to on the phone?
Poppy, my best friend.


Do you have a significant other?
No, I'm single and I live alone with my parents and my cats.

Favourite TV show?
Hustle!

Siblings?
No.

Height?
About 5"5?

Hair colour?
Brown.

Eye colour?
Blue-y grey-y green.

Do you wear contacts?
No.

Favourite holiday?
Christmas is good, though I'm getting to like New Year's Eve more.

Favourite month?
Depends. Last year it was November, because of Imogen Heap shows and all the writing I got to do. I'm starting to rely on actual events, instead of things like Christmas and birthdays for happiness.

Have you ever cried for no reason?
I have! The summer before this one I went to Florida with my parents, and one day had been out in the sun for a long time. When I got out of the bath, I was suddenly aware of how burnt I was. I kept going between being sweltering, sickeningly hot and freezing cold, to the point that I was shaking uncontrollably. All of the time my head ached and I felt as if my shoulders couldn't support it We were in a diner eating dinner and I was wearing a huge jumper and still felt like I was lying naked in snowicewatercoldness and I'm not that sure if it was how ill I felt or just nothing but I burst into tears and didn't stop for about forty minutes. Crazy.

What was the last movie you watched?
Rebecca (1970s version), just then. Adaptation isn't as good as the book.

Can you do a headstand (not using the wall)?
Hang on...
... no. I tried, I swear.

What books are you reading?
I'm reading "Neverwhere" by Neil Gaiman and so far, it's brilliant.

Piercings?
No. I'd like my ears done but have a fear of needles. (I just typed noodles instead of needles, wtf?)

What were you doing before this?
Watching Rebecca with my parents.

Butter, plain or salted popcorn?
Butter, please.

Dogs or cats?
Cats. I like dogs too, though.

Ever been caught doing something you weren't supposed to?
Probably.

Ever loved someone?
I could write an essay. But aside from parents, close friends and pets, I've decided probably not.

Ever fired a gun?
Only in Laser Tag.

Do you like travelling by plane?
I love flying.

Right-handed or left-handed?
Right. Trying to learn to be ampidexterous, because apparently that means if I have a stroke I won't lose the ability to speak. Yay.

How many pillows do you sleep with?
Four. But two are just decorative side pillows I tend to nudge away.

stranger inspiration & killing time

hello,



I'm leaving for the airport with my family to go to Turkey at three o clock this morning.

Seeing as it's the summer and there's no school, my sleeping pattern's changed and I've started going to bed later and waking up later also. So seeing as it's only adding 1-2 hours onto the time I would normally go to bed at the moment, I decided to just stay awake until 3 tonight.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I am bored already and the internet is lonely.

Um... so on the off chance anyone reads this, feel free to email me? lizzie.hudson@hotmail.co.uk



I started writing a novel today. This is how the idea started.



My grandfather died last week. He isn't my biological grandfather, but he's been with my grandma since I was born and it always felt like he was. On Thursday, the day of his funeral, I got to my grandma's house slightly earlier to bring a tray of brownies for the wake.

There was nobody there except a tall man, I'd say aged about sixty, but I'm really bad at guessing ages. My grandma introduced me to him. "Oh, this is a complete stranger," she said, and laughed.

This man, Dan, his name was, had turned up at the door that morning and told her that the deceased's brother, who was supposed to read a poem, was ill and is friend had come to do it instead. Nobody had heard from Clifford at all, just sort of automatically trusted this man because humans trust other humans, it seems, unless they are slightly odd and eccentric or under eighteen or possibly German.

He was an awkward man, tried hard to join in conversation and fit in, and didn't have much of a sense of humor (A distant great aunt or something to my mother: "You're Robin's wife? I've never met you before." Dan guy: "Well, I've never met any of you before today. Heh.") He had very pale blue eyes and a frowny serious expression and the way he moved and acted reminded me slightly of a football manager.

Throughout the funeral, he was gradually bumped up to the point that he was... let's call it part of the main procession. If it were a wedding, he would have been bordering on best man. Whilst my grandma's friends and neighbours kept distance whilst close family comforted her at certain times, the stranger Dan would instantly by her side, squeezing her hand, reassuring her as if he were a close friend or a brother or something.

The part that scared me the most was at the wake, I heard my grandma say to a group of her friends, "Dan's been great, hasn't he? I feel as if I've known him for years."

The polite brownie making grandaughter I was stayed quiet and smiled and acted like you do at funerals.

The writer inside me was driven crazy with excitement. She dragged my body to the bathroom, with a napkin and a biro I'd fouund at the bottom of my handbag. Together, we spent a hurried two minutes scribbling on both sides of the napkin and along the parts of my arms that were covered by my cardigan.

I have a lot to thank him for, the creepy man that arrived from nowhere and got under everybody's skin. The exaggeration of Dan in my head has hopped straight from reality onto the page, but the rest of the characters in my novel, some made of flesh and others imagination, were born this morning. I was too excited to wait for NaNoWriMo, I have laptop and an empty notebook and a five hour plane journey to write with during tomorrow, as well as being in a strange place for two weeks.

I will leave you now. Here is a picture of a ketchup bottle I took in Key West last year.