Log in

No account? Create an account

April 2011


my (our) books

Fool for Love When You Don't See Me

Someone Like You I'm Your Man

He's The One It Had To Be You

The Mammoth Book of New Gay Erotica Best Gay Erotica 2007

Best Gay Love Stories: New York City Best Gay Love Stories 2005

Three Fortunes In One Cookie The Deal


If you have any of the above books and would like them signed, mail them to:

P.O. Box 131845, Houston, TX., 77219.

Please include three dollars for return postage.

Send email to timothyjlambert@gmail.com

Warning: This blog may contain homosexuals which in the states of California and Maine have been alleged to destroy the sanctity of marriage. Read at your own risk.


recommended courses of action

Scout's Honor Rescue is an all-breed, no-kill, Not-For-Profit 501(c)(3) animal rescue organization committed to bringing courage, character and compassion to Houston's homeless pet population and making a positive difference in the lives of these stray and abandoned animals and the Houston community as a whole. 100% of every dollar donated goes directly to saving the life of a homeless animal.

Scouts Honor Rescue Inc.

locally known


maine AIDS alliance

global AIDS alliance


AIDS foundation houston

bering omega community services

frannie peabody center

Timothy's hair by Larry Henderson Hair Design.

Powered by LiveJournal.com

what a day that was

When I woke up it was cold in my apartment. A cold front passed through Houston while I slept. Or maybe it was a warm front passing by that pushed cold air our way. I'm not a weather man, so I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heat wasn't on and I was shivering. I dressed in khaki pants, mismatched socks, a tight T-shirt, and then I reached into the depths of my closet where the sweaters are carefully folded and removed a black lambs wool cable knit sweater from J Crew. I slipped it over my head and savored the softness as it caressed my cheek before I slipped my arms into the sleeves and adjusted it to my body. It used to be my favorite sweater. Not because it's flattering, and not because I found it on sale, but it was my favorite because I'd purchased it in Freeport, Maine, years ago while on a vacation with my boyfriend at the time. He was fairly wonderful, so wearing it often reminded me of him. Now it reminds me of bundling up on a cold winter day and walking down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan while the snow falls, dodging pedestrians and dirty slush puddles on the corners, and trying not to burn my chenille gloves as I lit a cigarette.

Tonight the sweater reminded me that I didn't always hate to leave the house. Sometimes I'd get positively antsy in my Manhattan apartment and had to leave it. Before I evolved into a drunk in 2001, I used to go the movies, usually to the dollar theater--which eventually inflated into the three dollar theater--at the Worldwide Plaza. No matter the hour, there was always a movie playing somewhere, which worked perfectly with my insomniac ways. Last call for movie showtimes in Houston tends to be around 10 or 11 PM, but luckily the Landmark River Oaks has a midnight movie on Friday and Saturday nights, so that's where I went tonight when the sweater forced me out of the house,and I got to see Stop Making Sense, arguably one of the best concert films by one of my favorite bands. I'd never seen it on the big screen, so that was thrilling. (My sweater wants everyone to know that Tina Weymouth rules.)

Now I have a new memory to attach to this sweater.