Lord. Someone posted pictures from a Prague party I helped host. Blast from the past. I'm only barely in them, but I recognize my shirt and hands. Date they provided is wrong, because I wasn't there in August, but that is me. And I remember the food. It was mexican (because my friend and I were so missing mexican food at that point.) I scoured the city trying to find sour cream because we couldn't figure out the translation (it was probably something stupid, but we're also the pair who we ended up sobbing with laughter on the floor after attempting to translate the washing machine instructions. We were afraid we'd pee our pants and then need to do laundry which had us breaking up even more. One of the options was filthy, though, so...) And we had to flirt with so.many.bartenders to lay in a supply of triple sec because we couldn't find it in the stores.
I was so very, very drunk by the time the party started, having been the taste-tester for the margaritas. Enough so that when the party moved to the clubs, I just crawled to the bed and refused to move, despite a couple of people trying to bodily carry me out. I woke up the next morning sharing the bed with 5 other people and the bathroom sink was on the floor and the cd player was fried.
Man, I'd forgotten all about that. She threw some epic parties, and I usually was her able assistant.