From time to time, I get emails from students asking me to complete a set of survey questions for a class they’re taking.  I’m usually happy to oblige, because I’m very evangelistic about my chosen career path and all of the awesomeness I’ve experienced through working with clients as their interior designer.

Last night I received another one, and to be honest, it has me in a bit of a wad.

“Im

[sic] in need of interviewing [sic] an interior designer for a school project.”

While I am not the expert on English grammar and concede that a few child stars of the National Spelling Bee may whip my butt when it comes to spelling the ten-dollar words, I’m pretty sure that if you are of high school age, you should be able to use the proper punctuation and grammar in that sentence.

Secondly, this person did not elaborate in any way about what class this might be for or what school they attend.  There was no “I’m a junior at ___ High School and we’re interviewing people in careers we’re interested in.”  No simple  pleasantries.  Basically, it felt like it was either some kind of weird spam or like some kid shoved a piece of paper in my face and said, “do my homework for me.”

Then I read a little further and discovered she’d forwarded the questions and answers from another person she “interviewed.”  Someone whose response to “Describe your job.  Your position and what your job duties entail?” was, “Well i work for my friends dad his name is brad, and i landscape and clean foreclosed homes.” [sic][sic][sic][sic]

The icing on the cake?  I noticed this girl’s email address includes the name “sugarpie,” and all kinds of bells and whistles went off and the mama in me was off on a RANT.

Do you know what can happen to you on these Internets, little girl?  Predators.  Pred-a-tors. Sick, disgusting dudes who have no social skills, who see “sugarpie” on an email address and start salivating.  I wonder if your poor parents know your email address is broadcasting your Lolita-ness to the entire world of creeps and pedophiles.  I wonder why in the world you even want that in your email address?  I wish I could sit you down and say, “you’re better than that…you deserve better than that.”  I’m scared that if I communicate all of this to you, you’ll shrug it off like I’m some stupid old lady in Texas because your little high school brain thinks you’re immortal.  And I don’t care if it’s a family nickname that started when you were an adorable little dumplin’ because when you get to high school, this is not how you want to project yourself to the general population.

Bliffffftttt! My head just exploded.