To commemorate my 25th wedding anniversary this week to my husband, Jesse, I asked readers on Facebook to share their own secrets to a long happy marriage.
In short, the crowdsourced recipe for marital endurance includes faith, forgiveness, romance, kindness, selflessness and a healthy dose of humor. A union built to last begins with a promise and persists through compromise and commitment. It is about keeping your word, choosing the right words and knowing when no words are necessary.
Teri L. emphasized: "Marriage is WORK. You have to put effort into it. You have to love and nurture the relationship. It has to be priority. You have to respect it."

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It costs a pretty penny to earn a diploma in stupid.
The annual list price to attend Boston University -- including tuition, fees, room and board -- currently rounds out to $70,000. To acquire a degree in economics from this tony institution of higher learning, an undergrad must complete courses in calculus, microeconomic and macroeconomic analysis, empirical economics, statistics and assorted electives.
Four years, 52 credits and nearly $300,000 later, the school promises that BU economics majors will depart "with a firm understanding of core microeconomic and macroeconomic theory" and the "empirical skills that are essential to applying economic reasoning in our increasingly data-driven world."

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I thought we had seen it all from radical feminists -- and what we've seen is way, way more than anyone other than a gynecologist needs to see.

Six years ago, Code Pink zealots traipsed across the fruited plain in giant female reproductive organ costumes demanding "respect" for women's bodies and women's abortion rights. They called themselves "dancing vaginas."

Last January, militant femmes converged on the National Mall donning pink pussy hats, twirling nipple umbrellas, chanting, "Build a uterine wall!" and waving defiant posters that boasted "I DON'T REGRET MY ABORTION."

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Amid all the raging political headlines and hyperventilating tweets of the Summer of Resistance, a searing ember of news stopped me in my tracks this week.
Jahi McMath has passed away.
I never had a chance to meet the young California teen, but her fight for life gripped me three years ago and was never far from my mind or heart -- especially as my own daughter, the same age as Jahi, battled her own health crisis.
Do you remember Jahi? Medical experts declared her "brain dead" after a routine tonsillectomy gone wrong. Children's Hospital Oakland pushed to have all life-sustaining medical treatment terminated; the professionals predicted quick deterioration. California declared Jahi legally "brain dead."

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"No ban. No wall. No borders at all."

That is the radical rallying cry of the Democratic Socialists of America. Waving desecrated U.S. flags, grubby fists and ratty anarchy banners, DSA's professional protesters are targeting Trump administration officials, threatening immigration enforcement agents, and blockading detention facilities and processing centers nationwide.

On a similar note, Rep. Keith Ellison, D-Minn., proudly marched in a parade last week with a T-shirt emblazoned with "Yo No Creo En Fronteras" -- Spanish for "I don't believe in borders."

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