A new semester offers new opportunities: Better grades. A more pleasant attitude.

In the spirit of self-improvement, I’ve resolved to do the following this year:

1. Stop ignoring people that hand stuff out in front of the flagpole. It must be rough to say, “Free low-carb, tomato-broccoli flavored energy drink made with real citric acid” to people passing by and only get grunts in response. Unless they’re playing “Mmmbop” on endless loop, then they get no sympathy.

2. Figure out just what holds those Froot Loops desserts at Umphrey Lee together.

3. Keep my shirt on at all social events. People who know me will agree this will be a particularly difficult one to follow.

4. Finally memorize the whole number of my P.O. box. Why do they put those two extra digits in front anyway?

5. Be nice to Red Sox fans. If I had to suffer 86 years of disappointment I’d be obnoxious, too.

6. Never again miss Corn Dog Day at Mac’s Place.

7. Learn exotic accents. When I bump into a girl at a party, explain in broken English, “I joost moofed here froom Shveden. Hyou are fery-vat’s the vord? Korgeoos. Vould hyou laig to dence?”

8. Grow three inches. I like to dream big.

While we all love our distinguished university, the top brass could make a few changes of its own:

1. Take down the “June Cometh” billboards all over town. Or at the very least get the guy a tissue.

2. Stop charging exorbitant late fees at the library. Last semester I got hit with $17 for a pair of headphones. It turned out they were behind the desk the whole time.

3. Lower tuition. Or raise scholarships. Or both. We’re in a recession here.

And even our exemplary leaders around the country could do better:

1. No more affixing “gate” on the end of every scandal. Monica-gate. Plame-gate. Trying-to-sell-that-Senate-seat-was-almost-as-stupid-as-my-hairdo-gate. I-can’t-believe-I-spent-eighty-grand-on-hookers-and-didn’t-think-anyone-would-notice-gate. Enough already.

2. If you’re going to dole out pork and call it a recovery plan try to be a bit subtler in your requests. A duck park? Tennis courts? And Larry Flint wants $5 billion to rescue the porn industry. Talk about a stimulus package.

3. Don’t let Joe the Plumber become the next U.S. Representative from Ohio’s 9th Congressional District. Please.

Of course, odds are that most of my resolutions won’t stick. Politicians will probably make even bigger mistakes than they have in years past. God knows I will. But through all of this semester’s crazy twists and turns, I resolve to do one last thing: remain positive. After all, Fluffy-the-Obama-terrier-gate has a nice ring to it.