It’s only 26 days into the new year and we still don’t know what’s going on. The economy? Sell it. The war? Withdraw it. School? Rain on it.

Things haven’t gone as planned!

I thought solutions were supposed to magically appear the moment President Obama said, “I do” on the pages of Abe’s Bible? Blame it on Chief Justice John Roberts. He has to learn to read first.

Was not Secretary of State Hillary Clinton supposed to be a dove of compassion? Yes, but only until Iran misbehaves and we are forced to “obliterate” them. Liberals traditionally only used the word “obliterate” when talking about morals.

Isn’t the Rainy Day Fund for a rainy day, President Boren? Rainy, in the sense, that people lose jobs and can’t eat. Not in the sense that my recreation fee may spike or a little dust may settle in Dale Hall.

Change, my friends. Change.

Thankfully, I am still in my Obama-trance. I sit in a room listening solely to the word “change” spoken in multiple languages and at varying volumes. Already, I am drafting plans to build an Obama Memorial directly atop Lincoln’s little memento on the Mall.

Yes, I have much to hope for in 2009 and beyond.

February

The Month of Love for a few. The Month of Misery for others. I hope more couples hold hands, listen to sappy Coldplay songs and spend massive amounts of money on a Hallmark-invented holiday.

I hope President Obama spends the entire month speaking. No legislation, no overseas trips, no meetings with smart people. MSNBC should broadcast a 24-hour live feed of the President re-assuring people that, yes, he loves the sound of his own voice, and, no, nothing is getting done.

I hope the state of Florida changes its name to the People’s Republic of Tebow.

March

All of us hopefully understand that what happens in Mexico does not stay in Mexico.

The Oklahoma Legislature, I hope, appropriates enough money to the Department of Transportation. No one wants to experience the action of a Michael Bay movie every time they cross a bridge.

Hopefully, Vice President Joe Biden does not propose the inaugural Credit Card Appreciation Day in honor of his biggest supporters, who ruin American lives daily from senatorially-protected compounds in Wilmington, Delaware.

I hope the Sooner basketball team makes a big splash in the NCAA Tournament. And I really hope a large group of people mobs Blake Griffin at McDonalds – for coach Capel’s sake.

I hope the Queen of England recognizes the Greatness of Tim Tebow and knights him.

April

President Obama, I hope, announces the shutdown of Guantanamo Bay. All suspected terrorists could be transported to a maximum security facility in Crawford, Texas. I hope the CIA has approved hunting with former Vice President Dick Cheney to replace water-boarding as the country’s preferred method of interrogation.

Bang. Whoops.

None of us hope students on the South Oval get assaulted daily with fliers for UOSA President. I do hope one candidate has the honesty to admit they are running to build their resume for graduate school. I hope students respect that enough to vote them into office.

I hope the Sigma Alpha Epsilon Boxing Tournament happens as planned. Where else can I watch out of shape and boozed-up guys pummel each other for the entertainment of the Top Sider crowd? Oh yeah, closing time every weekend.

I hope at least two Sooners are chosen in the opening round of the NFL Draft. After, of course, Roger Goodell appears on stage wearing a Tim Tebow jersey.

May

I hope President Obama has started wearing a top hat and growing a beard. Each speech should begin with the line, “Four score and seven years ago…”

I hope the Dow Jones average cracks the 10,000 benchmark on the news so that every CEO on Wall Street is now required to pass an IQ test before accepting the position. Can he spell? Can he do simple addition and subtraction? Sign him up.

I hope final exams require as much substance as a President Obama speech.

And, more than anything, I hope Sir Tim Tebow speaks at commencement.

Matt Felty is a public administration senior. His column appears every other Monday.