It’s almost that time again. I sense it in the crawling of my skin. My sensors all go on high alert. I’m crabby, emotional, obnoxious and unbearable. Yes, Christmas is upon us.

It’s the only time of year that I get home sick. Home sick to Curaçao, hell even the Netherlands will do, anywhere but here.

If you haven’t noticed it yet I dislike the holidays on my current home island very much. I say this knowing very well that this revelation might get me kicked off the island permanently. I can see the true St. Maarteners already, coming to get me in the middle of the night with pitch forks and torches, holding up signs saying “Off with her head” and “Death to the traitor”.