MORRISON, olivia asher

[emily]

CAN WE PRETEND
that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars i could
really use a wish right now wish right now wish right now

OLIVIA ASHER MORRISON*

"well hi there kiddos. my name's olivia asher morrison, and i'm the guitarist and back up vocalist for this little ole group called the dynamite duo. i was born and raised in a suburb of chicago, illinois called naperville -- a rich town with even richer kids and nothing to do but play music and fuck around in our basement. i've always been one of the guys, kind of, i guess you could say. i'm not a big fan of dressing up or anything like that, but i'm not about to run out and roll around in mud and join a baseball team. the truth is, if you're going to be a girl on tour, you have to be like that. anyone who tells you other wise is seriously bullshitting you.

i'm a pretty random gal. i speak what's on my mind straight up, and i rarely hold back about anything. i was vegetarian for three years, until i got sick from a lack of vitamins or some bullshit like that, and started gradually eating meat again. now i can't even fathom how i lived like that. i am a meat eater! no sexual jokes, please. speaking of sex, i'm not a virgin, in case you were wondering. i lost that shit when i was sixteen, i'm now twenty woop woop, to my boyfriend at the time. i don't sleep around, but i wouldn't consider myself a prude either.

i've got plenty of bad habits - and partying wouldn't be what i consider a bad habit. playing brickbreaker is a bad habit. picking your nose is a bad, and really disgusting, habit. fucking band members who don't give a shit about you (yeah, i'm talking to you, slut on my bus) is a bad habit. taking shots with friends, smoking a little weed, kissing a cute boy...that is not a bad habit. that is called living the life, my friend. and if you can't distinguish the difference, i pity you.

i'm a music geek, what can i say? i learned how to play the guitar when i was 9 years old, and i feel like i haven't put it down since. in high school i was in the marching band, automatically branding me with a giant 'nerd' symbol that i walked around with for the rest of high school. i went through a chubby phase in middle school, nothing too bad, but let's just say that the cheerleaders weren't vying for me to join their squad any time soon.

i'm pretty territorial, if you can't tell. my parents split when i was young, and since mom decided to live her dream working renaissance festivals around the country, me and my brother were stuck with my dad. he grieved for a few years, and focused on his work, got rich and moved us into a big house in naperville. that's when the girlfriends started fluttering in - making themselves comfortable, planning dinner parties, only for my dad to knock them on their asses. truthfully, it's not much different than when one of my band mates brings a girl back, at least, in my mind.

i know i may seem like a bitch, but i really think i'm a pretty decent gal. i love my fans, i love my friends, and i enjoy being myself. i'm the first to admit that i'm a total nerd: i played the tuba in my high school marching band. i'm obsessed with buffy the vampire slayer. i eat so much reese's pieces that it's a wonder i'm still not fat. i'm afraid of falling in love, and most importantly, i'm here to have a good time. so let's be friends, yeah?"

I COULD USE A

dream or a genie or a wish to go back to a place much simpler
than this cause after all the partyin' the smashin' and crashin'

hi i'm emily, and you love me, and i love you guys. c: js i'm fifteen, i'm in the eastern time zone, and you can reach me on aim -- itsreallyemily

here's my samplezz:

To be on tour and not play made Jacoby nervous for various reasons. First and foremost, he was just a nervous person. His need to know everything about his surroundings and his constant need to be doing something...simply assisting Melody and Emily with their work just wasn't enough. Of course, people - mostly his parents and doctors - doubted that Jacoby could handle just one tour. It had been a constant battle, trying to convince them that he could do it. Yet, coming from the boy who had mental break downs all throughout his freshman year of high school simply changing around from floor to floor; this wasn't exactly the most promising thing to hear. To everyone's surprise, including his own, the bigger of the two little J's returned home rejuvenated, excited and even with a new found love and respect for his music and get this: a hot girlfriend.

Jacoby was currently wandering around the venue, a light evening breeze pressing against his bare cheeks as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, trying not to dump the three packed bags of Chipotle burritos and assorted food he was currently trying to transport to the venue. Most people would put up a big fuss about doing grunt work; spewing off remarks about how they were a signed artist, not a mousy intern who was instructed to run about silently and between the floor boards. Jacoby liked mindless work that he could lose himself in; it gave him a sense of accomplishment and raw emotion, which was the bulk of most of the work that Melody gave him. When he wasn't out fetching laundry or Fed-Ex packages or running to get everyone dinner, he was simply helping reply to emails, organize meet and greets and until recently when a "homeless man" had approached him in New York, begging for "money"; collect the guarantees at each of the shows.

Once he had approached the venue, he adjusted his slouch hat, clearing his throat and flashing his tour laminate awkwardly at the burly door man. He sashayed past fan girls, blushing as a trail of whispers followed him. It was always a bit disorienting to see a musician at a show they weren't playing at; especially on a small scale (well, compared to celebrities like the Jonas Brothers or Sarah Jessica Parker). If you saw say, Tucker Deville outside of a venue by the bus or sitting by the merch table, you knew how to approach him. But, what if you saw that same musician at another person's show, or grocery shopping? Still, the albino beauty smiled politely, managing to squeeze backstage and deliver all of the food. There were still two burritos, two water bottles, and a container of guacamole, extra spicy salsa and fresh chips, waiting to be delivered. Jacoby's tummy rumbled as he slid off the leather jacket, leaving it in Mel's office, waving politely to her as she rambled on to some business partner on her BlackBerry.

Jacoby managed to slide past a group of fans, their cameras poised to attack Letters From Janelle once they exited the stage and headed to the merch table. His sapphire blue eyes immediately gleamed with delight as soon as he came within the parameter of the table. Although, it wasn't some chance that he bumped into Natalie. People teased him that consciously and unconsciously, it was as though some kind of Nat-Radar was installed on him so that he could almost feel when she would be somewhere near him. If anyone needed to get ahold of Natalie - which was more often than she let herself think - he was the person to ask. He set the bag down on the table, grinning his trademark goofy grin and immediately leaning down and wrapping her thin frame in his surprisingly lean, strong arms. "I have a few of those I can spare," He happily relayed, giving her a big squeeze and a rather sloppy peck on the cheek. "Hi gorgeous!" He managed to slip in before she continued speaking.

"Mmm, all of the above? But mostly the last two. You know, my sister has cooties..." Jacoby trailed off, offering her a wink and giving her a loving, lingering kiss on the lips. He pulled up a chair, his grin still plastered tight to his face, taking her hand and tracing the contours of her fingers and rings absent mindedly. "Oh!" he suddenly burst, turning around quickly and snatching the bag. "I got dinner for everyone too, I guess the Merricks really do think alike," he rambled, his mind suddenly traveling to wondering if there was an alternate universe where people all thought al- No, focus! He scolded himself. "Vegetarian burrito and extra spicy salsa and chips, my lady," he offered her the bag, scooping up his own chicken burrito, packed with all of the fixings. "So how has your day been?" he asked, licking his fingers and digging into his burrito, smearing sour cream across his face in the process.

thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you

this application was made by two birds. of caution. steal and her hoard of zombies will come and eat your brains.