Gemini is a masculine mutable Air sign, ruled by the planet Mercury. It is the third sign on the zodiac wheel, directly opposite Sagittarius, and is named for the constellation Gemini (the twins), which constantly ducks and dives behind the Sun at this time of year.
On the Darkside, this makes you an unreliable, roguish sociopath with a light finger and the attention span of a hyperactive mayfly.
ANNOYING HABITS
Punctuality
You're rarely late (you'd hate to miss any good pickings), but never stay long since you are usually on your way to somewhere else that you think might be more interesting, or stuffed with classier celebs.
Toothpaste
You have a shiny new electric toothbrush "borrowed" from somewhere, and toothpaste picked up from unguarded retail displays-you didn't pay for it, so why should you give a damn about how it's squeezed.
Temper gauge
0 to boiling point in five seconds, inventive invective, blistering bitchery, then back down again in two, mostly because your attention has wandered off. You prefer to get even, not mad.
personality
feckless, reckless, two-faced
Brightside you is famous for your irresistible charm and sprightly wit. But you (and I) know that it's all a facade, isn't it? It's all sparkly patter to shift the eyes of the gullible away from what you're really up to. Underneath that layer of stage-school sincerity lurks a cold-eyed, cold-hearted, bad-mouthing rumormonger, scavenging information so that you can shaft someone later, so maybe even initiate a satisfactory little feud.
There is no cunning so low you can't limbo under it; no scam so complex that you can't get your devious, slippery mind around it. You are the con artist with the cheeky grin who detaches widows from their mites and babies from their candy, and yet leaves them laughing. What's the problem? It's all a game, isn't it?
Yet in spite of all your conning and conniving, you are never satisfied with what you get, are you? You carry color swatches around so that you can check the greenness of the grass on the other side of whoever's garden you're drinking daiquiris in at the time. You always suspect that somewhere, just over the next rainbow, there's a more exciting party going on and you're not on the guest list. To block out such gloomy notions you have to be entertained at all times, otherwise you might get bored--and then the dark thoughts will come again. You charge about in a restless miasma of noise, change, bells, and whistles, and the manufacturers of Ritalin rub their hands in glee as they airfreight yet another shipment out to you.
Brightside astrologers (just as easily bamboozled as anyone else) twitter on about your eternally youthful exuberance; this is code for saying that you are in a permanent midlife crisis of your own making: a discontented, self-obsessed commitment-phobe who refuses to grow up and is still wearing a baseball cap backward at the age of 45.
Call you irresponsible? Yes, and unreliable, inconsistent, impractical, immature, incorrigible, and a whole lot of other words with a negative prefix. If it came to a choice between feeding your children and the last pair of Blahniks in the sale, or an invitation to join an exclusive, high-stake poke game at the classy end of town--no contest. you might even sell the kids.
Of course, to live by your wits (i.e., lying, cheating, and swindling) you need to have some wits to start with. You don't have any more than the rest of us, but you cunningly spread them very thinly over a large area, so that from a distance--and as long as you keep moving--you appear brighter than you are.
And it must have been you who invented ligging: basking in the limelight of the rich and famous; you're far too much of a feckless shapeshifter (plus there are your previous convictions to take into account) to build your own glittering career. Besides, being best friends with a rockstar gives you all the kudos without any of the hard work and tedium. And you'll never be called upon to deliver that difficult third album.
b***h rating
A++. We bow to the zodiac's b***h Queen. Your lightning rapier zigzags with such sparkling wit and style that many bitches don't notice they've been slashed for at least three weeks; and your apologies are always so transparently heartfelt and sincere.
Collective noun
A confidential tip for non-Geminis. You may find yourself in a room full of Geminis (probably lured there by an impossibly cheap timeshare deal: watch your wallet, your reputation, and your partner). The air buzzes with the sound of plausible grifters getting top dollar on their grandmothers. This is an Attention Deficit of Geminis. Sign nothing.
FAVE DEADLY SIN
Oh, come on! Only one deadly sin? For you, the dilettante of depravity? I don't think so. You need at least four: two for each twin. What to choose? Pride, for sure, although you prefer to use its other name, Vanity (you know you look good, so why not say so?); lust, because it's fun; Envy (why should the rich have all the nice, shiny things? Indeed, why should anybody have anything you want? And how can you prize it from them without them noticing?). And Greed. Greed is good. What's wrong with wanting it all?
blame your planet
bright, fast, and deadly
If you have been more devious than usual, have found yourself engaged to three separate admirers, have triple-crossed the local drug baron--if even you can't come up with a good excuse to explain why you are behaving so badly, then celestial help is at hand. Blame your planet. In your case, this is Mercury.
Mercury is a small, dense busybody that scurries sycophantically around the Sun in just 88 years, practically joined at the hip with our local star. It doesn't mind the heat as long as it can be self-important in the kitchen. It's got no moon (Mercury subjects like to travel light and, anyway, it wouldn't want to share the glory). Its showbiz twinkle is outclassed by the Sun, so it's mostly seen low in the east at darn (like a party animal reeling back from a celeb-infested all-nighter) or low in the west at sunset (like a skulking burglar casing the joint).
It's called Mercury (like the shiny, silvery, shapeshifting, deadly metal) after the Roman god, but he is just a later version of Hermes, the Greek god of practically everything, but especially merchant bankers, cell phones, gypsies, tramps, and thieves.
And Mercury is a tricksy planet. It follows a charmingly eccentric orbit, speeding up and slowing down as the mood takes it, but only rotating on its axis three times every two years. This means that, if you stood on Mercury, you'd see the sun rise twice in the morning and set twice at the end of the day. Now you see it, now you don't.
who's got your number?
check out the opposition
Your polar opposite sign is Sagittarius, the thoughtless, reckless, obsessional extrovert, who likes to live now, and default later. What would a fast-moving, fast-talking, nimble-witted artful dodger like you want with a clumsy, blundering, foot-in-mouth liability like Sagittarius? How come you have this--shall we say--understanding? Well, like good cop and bad cop, or arch villain and fixer, you need each other to make the Darkside work for you. It's all about elements (undesirable ones, or course). You are Air; Sagittarius is Fire. Fire cannot burn without oxygen, and don't you two just love breaking into the fireworks factory and throwing lighted matches around.
Unlike any other polar pairings, you two have a relationship that shows up above the subatomic particle level. You know the pattern: the little weasely motormouth who fights dirty and initiates trouble, and the big, dumb oaf of little brain who is dragged along in the slipstream. Think of Laurel and Hardy, Pooh and Piglet, and, for the intellectuals among you, Vladimir and Estragon.
Respect your inner Sagittarian; it provides a tiny inner flame of humanity (even Darkside Sagittarius love their moms) that thaws that cold, hard little heart of yours, secretly sneering at how easily the rest of us can be taken in. Of course, if it melts in there, you might begin to consider giving the suckers an even break. And you couldn't have that.
sex
fun and games
As your gonads are wired up to your head, not your heart, you love sex because it's a game you're really good at. Singles, mixed doubles, five-a-side: You excel at all of them, at amateur and professional level.
Not for you long, languorous nights in satin sheets with just the one lover. You must never be bored in bed. Lots of your sex takes place in unusual places (you are a founder member of the Mile High Club, The K2 It's Great on Top Collective, and the Mariana Trench Going Down Slow Society). Or it has the frisson that comes from possible discovery: in the next room to your mother-in-law, on the boardroom table, in church.
You always like a nice old-fashioned orgy because, the minute dullness rears its head, you just shift your leg slightly and move on. While not in the Scorpio class, you do appreciate a bit of designer deviance of the cross-dressing, velvet handcuffs, role-playing kind. Top sex for you is pleasuring one lover while flirting with the next two over their shoulder.
DARKSIDE DATE
Your trick is to cast a wide net, then you get to pick and choose the catch. You are such a broad-spectrum flirt that there is no chance you won't get a date--probably two or three for the same evening. This is the kind of romantic challenge you relish, and you thank your lucky planet for the invention of the cell phone. Your date(s) must bring a well-stuffed wallet with them, as one of your favorite gambits is "Let's you and me go and have a wonderful time spending your money." One of your career goals is to become arm-candy to the filthy rich. Your ideal date you be with identical-twin, world-famous Brazilian supermodels with their own Swiss bank accounts, playing strip poker and drinking Cristal champagne in their Lear jet. You'd bring your own sex toys and parachute--in case anyone mentioned commitment.
What kind of love rat are you?
You blarney your way into the hearts of the vulnerable, your friends' partners, or useful work colleagues, and keep them all sweet despite behaving atrociously. You move on (almost immediately), but you don't dump; you prefer to keep your options open to ensure a warm welcome in every port. And stop all that love-rat abuse--your rat is a smart, resourceful player who never goes hungry.
IMCOMPATIBILITY RATING
Aries--this may be character forming: a megadose of your own love potion.
Taurus--they will try to tie you down with food and flattery.
Gemini--exhausting; how will the four of you keep it up?
Cancer--inevitably end in tears (not yours, of course).
Leo--come on like royalty, but they're just another frog to you
Virgo--will smother your every betrayal with understanding and forgiveness. Aargh!
Libra--see what happens when con artists collide.
Scorpio--social butterfly meets professional insectivore.
Sagittarius--folie a deux; bungee jumping without strings.
Capricorn--you leap at the chance of leading astray the zodiac's Mr. Repression.
Aquarius--no good at all--way too cool to rise to your bait.
Pisces--perfect: the zodiac's amphibian, your natural prey.
relationships
round, round, get around
For Princess Gemini, it's all in the game: you love the pursuit of poor besotted frogs, and will even kiss them, but when they turn into dull handsome princes, the thrill is gone and the spell wears off. You go to the next call and they get thrown back into the pond.
Born to network, you cannot live without great swathes of lovers, but for you the words, "relationship" and "permanent" go together like peaches and plutonium. In your case, it's never mind the depth, feel the quantity. At parties you constantly look over the shoulder of whoever you are currently bewitching with your coruscating badinage, your radar on high alert for anyone prettier, more famous, or more likely to get you that job. For you, flirting is an extreme sport, and one that you play at professional level. Even when not going for the burn, you lightly trash other people's marriages and flit onto your next victim, leaving the broken shards behind with never a backward glance.
Your idea of commitment is restricting yourself to three (or four) concurrent partners, to whom you are faithful in your fashion. To be fair, you know this about yourself--although, of course, you see nothing wrong with it--and Brightside twins warn prospective lovers. But do they listen? Of course not. They immediately want to be the one who nails down your particularly bright, elusive butterfly of love. Which just makes you even more fascinating.
work
would I lie to you?
Your native instinct to deceive and dissemble means that you survive well in the workplace. You can blag your way into almost any position--what do only a few boring qualifications matter? It's only brain surgery. And once there you naturally gravitate to the influential people, where you ingratiate yourself with shameless fawning and flattery.
You clamber up the work ladder like a monkey up a coconut palm, using wit, charm, blackmail, and a long, sharp blade for backstabbing; you are the original smiler with the knife. Astute CEOs often hire you for this very reason. Eventually, you will nail the boss. Iago is, after all, your role model.
In the field of office politics, your weapon of choice is gossip. It's an easy option for an Olympic-class two-faced dirt-disher like you. You are, naturally, smart enough to pinpoint key personnel lower down the food chain (receptionist, accounts clerk, office cleaner) whom you can bedazzle into submission without even breaking sweat, and who can give you all the information you need to apply a little leverage in the right places, if the promotions and perks aren't coming your way as quickly as you deserve.
You expend a lot of energy arranging things so that you get maximum reward for minimum effort. (You would never just do the work instead--where's the fun in that?) And you are a natural for all those jobs requiring a sociopathic ability to lie without blush or stumble: politics, the law, advertising, PR, customer relations.
DREAM JOBS
You may spend your days idly fiddling the petty cash, trawling the Internet on company time, and dropping your colleagues in it with a casual smile and a shrug, but you are only human after all, and you dream of much higher things. Gemini superjobs include:
Triple agent
It doesn't matter whose side you start out on (you have no moral perceptions), it's the game you love: inventing bogus info and outwitting the slow. You might get shot, but that just adds a frisson of danger to the fun.
Tabloid journalist
Digging dirt, spreading ugly rumors, doorstepping the unfortunate, reading other people's diaries, snatching sneaky snapshots, ruining marriages--getting paid to do what you do for free anyway.
crimes and misdemeanors
how bad could it get?
So what sort of criminal would you be, if sociopathy became the new world order? How would you spend your days (or maybe your nights) if you really lived on the Darkside? Well, it has to be said that Brightside Gemini is not averse to a little light fingerwork and recreational scamming, and on the Darkside you'd like more of the same, but with some class. What you really love about the gangster life are the sharp suits, fast cars, laconic one-liners, and the Rolexes. The weaker twins among you (of either sex) are quite happy to be a gangster's moll if you can't hack it as a hard man.
You like your crime risky, adventurous, and fast-paced, so gun running, dope smuggling, insider trading, and smash-and-grab raids all have their appeal. Your quick, shiny little mind and persuasive, shiny little tongue make confidence trickery, blackmail, and selling chunks of the Moon to the gullible easy options.
Of course you don't give a fig for the law--everyone knows it's an a**, and snook-cocking at authority is just one of your many specialties. If you do get pinched and it ends up in court, you hire a bent lawyer (who will be a sign-mate) or conduct your own defense, because you are sure no judge or jury could resist your cheeky grin or baby-blue eyes.
But if all your plutonium-grade charm does not penetrate the hide of the judiciary, and you are lock up, it doesn't take you long to pickpocket the keys, sweet-talk the screws, disguise yourself as a simple washerwoman, and make a break for freedom.
WHEN TWINS GO WRONG
Gemini crimes are among the most entertaining because they all come across as working scripts for a Hollywood caper movie. You avoid pointless violence (so last season) and never really got over your Robin Hood obsession, did you? What about these little numbers...?
Getaway driver
A great combinations of speed, thrill, skill, quick wittedness, and instant payoff, without having to do much--and at one remove from the bit that might get sticky. If the heist goes wrong, just drive off and act innocent.
International jewel thief
Irresistible! Unites shiny things, sophistication, high society, and shopping (for free) in one package: glamour, thrills a frisson of danger, and the excitement of a heart-in-mouth, laser-dodging masterplan.
at home
… or maybe not
The trouble is, Geminis are rarely at home. When not on the run, you are found on a futon in a friend's garage (making wallet-scorching phone calls on the friend's cell phone), in the penthouse suite of a trillion-star hotel at somebody else's expense, or on vacation. Those of you who have hit pay dirt, who launder money for the mod, or live off immoral earnings like to rent look-at-me residences in tax havens, with a helipad or private airstrip for quick getaways. Those who have let the sign down may be found trashed in a trailer park, illegally parked in an untaxed camper van, or in a cardboard box.
DOMESTIC DISHARMONY
Aries--they set fire to the place; you collect the insurance.
Taurus--easily flattered into cooking the dinner.
Gemini--neither of you will pay the rent or clean up, but since both of you will be out all the time, you won't notice.
Cancer--easily flattered into domestic drudgery; you don't listen to the nagging.
Leo--easily flattered into paying all the rent.
Virgo--constantly tut-tut under their breath about something they call the phone bill.
Libra--will seduce all your lovers-and even you-if there's nothing on the television.
Scorpio--even you wouldn't dare to "borrow" anything from their scarily tidy room.
Sagittarius--bring all their dogs with them and throw wild parties; fun, then eviction.
Capricorn--it's their house and, boy, are they boring about getting the rent of time, or at all.
Aquarius--too smart to be conned into extra chores.
Pisces--they will guzzle all the freebie champagne you score at celeb bashes.
Decor
If Geminis do have to hole up in a normal house for a bit, you can be sure it will be decorated with small, shiny, portable gadgets, as befits a magpie's nest. Don't ask why the various antiques, Georgian flatware, Old Masters, and so on don't reflect a coherent personal taste, but appear to come and go mysteriously--usually at night. In fact, just don't ask. At all.
Sharing the Gemini space
Neat! You get to scan their credit cards in the night, and take their money, but forget to pay the landlord or the mortgage company; so they'll soon be back out on the street, but at least they won't have any possessions to worry about.
playtime
the darkside of fun
Just as the Masai people believe that all the cattle in the world belong to them, so you (that's all four of you: Brightside and Darkside twins) believe that all vacations are yours by Divine Right; otherwise you'd have to go to work, or, worse, you might get bored. Don't, however, go on vacations with small groups--at least not for longer than a weekend, which is the time it will take for everyone to realize that you have been bitching abut them behind their back and that it was you who borrowed their best Louboutins and danced until dawn on the beach in them; then they will gang up on you, and for once there will be nowhere to run.
You want an about-to-be fashionable venue, full of A-list celebs, where you can do white-water rafting by day (you seduce the raftmaster and go for free) and clean up at poker in the evening. Although you like flirting with the croupier, Plan A is to seduce a filthy-rich admirer or several, to finance your fun.
Vacations from hell
*A cultural bus tour of ancient ruins with Cancer. You will seize the steering wheel out of sheer boredom and drive over the nearest cliff.
*Anywhere with Taurus (absolutely no sense of adventure) or Pisces (you didn't sign up to babysit).
*An out-of-season budget fortnight with Capricorn and Virgo in an unfashionable resort where the sun don't shine.
Road rage
You don't get mad, you get ahead. You are the one in the small but turbo-driven sportscar, with the wind in your hair and someone else paying for the gas. Or you are the one on this year's fashionable motorbike ("borrowed" wink . Either way, you burn rubber. You cut corners, jump lights, don't even register the speed limit, and laugh as you give the finger to apoplectic Ariens whom you leave standing. You don't need a map: where's the adventure in that? You flirt with attractive natives if you get lost. Likelihood of you being at the wheel of a stolen car with a gigawatt sound system? About 90 percent.
Gamesmanship
You have a Masters in undetectable cheating and hacking when the ref isn't looking and where the bruises don't show. Your witty wind-ups and under-the-breath taunts make your opponents mad and careless. You always play to win, but know better than to show naked greed; your smiling poker face is a work of art.
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Ramblings of a Jinx
Kinda pointless, since I know people don't read these, but I post 'em anyway.
jinxgirl5 is...
09/17/19 New computer, so hopefully I'll be posting a little more. Writing muse is still very iffy though. If you want to break pre-arranged plots with me I promise I won't be upset, just send me a PM so I know what's going on. Many sorrys, life just took that kind of a turn! That being said, hopefully I become a lurker once more.
09/17/19 New computer, so hopefully I'll be posting a little more. Writing muse is still very iffy though. If you want to break pre-arranged plots with me I promise I won't be upset, just send me a PM so I know what's going on. Many sorrys, life just took that kind of a turn! That being said, hopefully I become a lurker once more.