I've always liked the term "tribe". Anthropologically speaking, it calls up an anachronistic lovechild of Levi-Strauss and Edith Piaf. Nostalgia. Sing-song. Watery. Northern Yucatan. The smell of your fingers after devouring a banana (eight if you're pregnant) on a heat indexed afternoon in the tiny, dry backyard. Elaborate, ruffly, noisome period drama costuming.

Now there is a modern twist. I am a vessel now, expecting my marriage (having grown from friendship through lusty antagonism t... read more