Sunday evening blues right down to my shoes Man, money is such a huge problem for me (and millions of others, no doubt) and it's starting to get me down.

I pay and pay and pay but the damn bills just keep flowing in like tidal waves after an earthquake. IT SUCKS!

But whaddayagonnado?

Life goes on ... yadayadayada. So it's premiere week on the TV, my only saving grace since my favorite shows are returning with new plotlines and surprise developments, I'm sure. So far, West Wing, Law and Order, ER and NYPD Blue have been satisfying returns to their ongoing character studies. CSI Miami was a disappointment, though. And while I don't get HBO, my girlfriend D does and I've become hooked on "Carnivale," an odd story set in the 1930s that follows the meanderings of a group of 'carnies.' Freaks, geeks and bearded ladies populate the scruffy entourage that's led by a mysterious 'boss,' who has yet to make an appearance. But his/her mouthpiece is the dwarf from David Lynch's "Twin Peaks" and "Firewalk with Me."

The plot revolves around a young man who is psychic and has some kind of kinetic powers of undetermined strength; but he did revive a dead bird when he was just a wee lad so his touch transmits something in the high-voltage range.

So tonight I'll visit D to catch the third installment. The love the 'look' of "Carnivale!" What's wonderful is that it appears to have been filmed using kinescopic technology - lots of browns and washed-out looking cream-to-beige colors.

But that's neither here nor there. I'm rambling a bit for the sake of the exercise, truth be known.

I'm out, for now. Adios.