Fabulous secret powers were revealed to me the day I held aloft my magic sword and said "By the power of the Internet"

If you will indulge me for a moment. I need your help, Internets.

Ahem.

Mr. C and I are going on a short trip in a few weeks. It's one of those performance reward trips that large corporations hand out once in a blue moon to select employees. Apparently, if you work non-stop and kiss the right ass you get recognized along with a bunch of other shmucks who sold their soul to the company machine and you get a free trip to some place warm. Who knew?

(I'm just kidding, dear. You're not a shmuck.)

Anyway, in the past these get-aways, retreats if you will, were held on Caribbean islands, the Bahamas, and Hawaii. This year? Phoenix.

Fucking Phoenix, Arizona.

I'm a-twitter with excitement.

Aside from the nervousness of leaving my child behind for the first time since her conception I have a very important dilemma that needs the wisdom of the internet to solve. My sanity depends on what advice you have for me.

I don't know what to wear.

It's not funny. Stop laughing. I'm serious.

It's being held at a luxury resort in the desert where temperatures during the day rise well into the 90s, but during the night dip down into the 50s and 60s. Our first evening there we're to take part in an "authentic Western Ho-down"...

(insert your favorite joke about hos here)

...and on the last evening we're being trucked out into the desert for "dinner and dancing under the stars". Sounds lovely, right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. So wrong.

In our information packet it says about this dinner: "Women are encouraged to wear comfortable, flat shoes" and... That's it. That's all it says in reference to the dress code. I'm drawing a complete blank here and that scares me. Because there we will be, one of the token techie guys and his stay at home house wife with a bunch of bazillionaire, testosterone-laden sales guys and their botoxed trophy wives.

Okay, I may have gone a bit far with that last part. They're not bazillionaires.

I really don't want to get this wrong. There's nothing that will make me run for the safety of my bed faster than showing up somewhere improperly attired. So, what would you wear if you were in my place? Remember, 90 degrees during the day and 50 to 60 degrees at night. Outside. In the desert. I have no idea if it's dressy but I think it's fair to assume that jeans would be frowned upon. I need the whole outfit - pants, top, shoes.

Oh, and if you could recommend a good place to find bathing suits that will fit my freakishly long torso but will also contain my saddle bags, that would be great too.

Now that that has been said I can get back to more frivolous things, like keeping Eternia safe from the evil clutches of Skeletor. And cleaning my bathroom in my baggy sweatpants.

I thank you in advance.

(And to my readers in the Phoenix area, I'm sure it's lovely out there. But it's not the ocean and I was really looking forward to turquoise water, fruity island drinks, and cabana boys in skimpy bathing suits. Exchanging cabana boys for cactus was a bit of a blow.)