Last updated on January 9th, 2021 at 11:31 am
Last Updated: January 9, 2021
#SaugaTweetup was undoubtedly a success on Wednesday night.
The best event bloggers in the city must be getting paid to write about the things they go to because there’s no way you can hold a full-time job down, maintain a social life, be in a relationship (or a family, to take it one step further), and still find the time to write some quality prose on where you were a night or two ago.
With that said, here I am writing up an entry on #SaugaTweetup—originally the morning after on the subway, notebook in hand, scrawling notes out that I hope to assemble into a post sooner than later.
Hosted by Robert Sarjoo and Christian Anderson, #SaugaTweetup found me back in my hometown of Mississauga, Ontario, somewhere I’d long renounced for the siren call of its big brother—Toronto, ON—after serving my 28-year sentence trapped within its borders. (It’s seriously nowhere near as bad as I make it out to be, but I think the general rule applies—if kids live anywhere long enough, you’re invariably going to wind up with some who want nothing more than to escape!)
Tweetups are fun events—go to enough of them and you definitely start to see the same faces over and over again, but it’s okay, because, with enough time, some of these faces turn into actual friends, and tweetups turn into the place where you happen to see them more often.
#SaugaTweetup, much like Christine’s Crashaversary last year, was this kind of event—catching up with old friends and making new ones! Much of the night was a blur between nibbling on snacks, free swag, prize giveaways and rapid-fire conversation, but I came out of it with a feeling that it was a night where I’d connected well with everyone, making contact with people who could be new faces that I’ll see from time to time!
I look at my calendar and am a bit relieved that this is the last event I have scheduled for a bit; when you have a list of things that you want to work at and you’re out on the town all of the time, there’s a little voice in the back of your head gnawing away at you:
“It’s time to get back to work.”
Until the next time,