Maybe it’s because one of the first sounds I ever heard as a child was the foghorn in Atlantic Highlands; maybe it’s because I learned how to swim in the ocean off Sandy Hook; maybe it’s something more primal, fascination with a creature capable of eating humans, compelled curiosity about huge fish, and the concept of dying by being eaten, but I’ve been in love with sharks for as long as I remember.

Almost every year since The Discovery Channel started celebrating Shark Week, it’s coincided with my birthday, and I always found it strangely appropriate. After all, what better present could there be for a girl in love with big toothy fish? This year, they’re running it almost a MONTH early (Beginning tonight), but I find consolation in the knowledge that in August, Animal Planet is running a movie based on the book Twelve Days of Terror, about the early twentieth century shark attacks along the Jersey Shore and Matawan Creek. Even if they don’t get the facts right, I love a good shark movie, so I’m really excited about this.

The one thing I’ve wanted to do, ever since we came back to California in 1998, and the one thing I likely won’t be ever to do before we migrate to Texas, is take a day trip to the Farralons to photograph them myself. But, there are always vacations, and there’s a Mexican cruise that offers night diving with sharks if you get scuba certification first.

Meanwhile, I’m curled up in the bed, with two sleeping dogs, and my lovely ocean-blue carpet, and I’m watching Shark Week.