I’m off to see Derren Brown’s Svengali this evening. I am so looking forwards to it.

Svengali is a fictional character in George du Maurier’s 1894 novel Trilby. The word “svengali” refers to a person who, with evil intent, manipulates another person. The Svengali may use pseudo-kindness, artfully or deceitfully, to get the other person to do what the Svengali desires. The word is frequently used for any kind of coach who exercises an extreme degree of domination over a performer. The term applies when the coach is an older man and the performer, a young woman. It is also used when the coach is an unaccountable but overridingly influential adviser who exerts control over a political leader or candidate.

With that in mind, man what a show we’re going to be in for tonight!

I have never been in a march before. I have never felt strong enough about something to march. Yes, I’ve had opinions, thoughts and feelings on things but not strong enough to take time out of my day and make a stand. The slut walk changed all that.

I followed the Slut Walk’s tumblr and I wanted to join in on the ‘Why I am marching’ posts with why it was personal to me. I felt though, that by writing about it, by admitting about what had happened to me in the past that I was celebrating it in some way. I wanted to write a sign that said:

“Society defines me as less likely to be raped because I am fat and ugly.
Bullshit.
So why was I raped?
1998 – Once. Boyfriend and his friends.
1998-2001 – Several. Strangers who didn’t hear/care I had changed my mind.
2001 – Once. Ex/Best Friend.
2002-2003 – Several Times. Boyfriend.
2006 – Once. Boyfriend. ”

You don’t hear about women being raped more than once that much. But it happens. I just didn’t want it to sound like I was saying mine was worse because it happened over the course of a few years. I blamed myself so much for the ones with strangers as I initiated one night stands then said no at the end hoping to find one person who would take no for an answer to make up for the first rape. It’s not until the last year that I have accepted that none of these were my fault. They may not have been violent but they are still rape. It has taken this long to accept that. The Slut Walk for me was putting that big FULL STOP on my acceptance.

I got there for about 12.30. Met up with two lovely girls whose friends had bailed on them. The three of us marched together. No sooner had we got settled somewhere waiting for it to set off that we were swamped on by paparazzi. It was like being famous. Everyone wanted an interview at the same time. Everyone wanted photos at the same time. Why it was all the same time I don’t know. I handed my card to those who wanted my details and talked about why I was there. I didn’t talk about what I just wrote about, I talked about how I believed that it was every persons right to be able to dress how they want, be it jeans and t shirt, religious dress, cat ears and tail (I wasn’t wearing my tail as I didn’t want it stood on) without fear or prejudice. I said this over and over to different reporters. In hindsight I should have probably asked who was who, I forget which publications told me who they were. I know one was the independent. I am expecting misquotes and some less than choice words on my photos. We shall see how it goes.

I didn’t expect to stick around for the rally in Trafalgar Square. I knew it would be crowded and I don’t do well with unmoving crowds. People pushing to get to the front. But I found a comfy spot on the fountain and sat and listened. My only downside to the talkers was that they were all women (if there was a man I missed it while finding a seat) and they all talked about rape being about men forcing themselves on women. I think one person mentioned that men can be raped by men but no one mentioned that men can also be raped by women. There is part of the feminist movement which makes me uncomfortable to refer to myself as a feminist which is to blame men for everything and that men are evil. That was my only complaint.

I think that this walk should become a yearly thing. Until we can get it into peoples heads that “s/he was asking for it” is not in peoples vocabulary. By definition, no one asks to be raped.

If anyone has any pictures of me, I wouldn’t mind copies. I have pink hair, was wearing cat ears for most of it (until they broke) and was carrying this sign.

Love always
Gothi xxx

So Friday started off as a pretty boring and crappy day. Things were not working out the way I needed them too and I was beginning to feel down. American Soda started a retweet comp on twitter and I thought what the hell. The prize was £50 to spend on the store. I didn’t expect much from it. Getting on with my work I then heard my twitter go to say that I had a message, looking at tweetdeck showed me that I had won. I think the entire of London heard the squee.

My doctor has just stopped my diet and having not had soda for a good 4 months the idea of being able to induldge in my favourite soda was a good one.

Dave at American Soda took my order and it arrived this evening via DHL. I am now officially a very happy kitten.

Thank you American Soda!

What you see here is 12xCode Red, 12xVoltage, 1x A1 Steak Sauce, 2x Mello Yello (no idea what it is, but trying it out) 2x Stewards Cherry (again, not sure what it is, giving it a go), 5x Twizlers, 4x Mounds (strange coconut chocolate).