The Sonia Show

Writer. Podcaster. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

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I want to be the Honorary Bat Girl for the San Francisco Giants

Yeah, so, I need you guys to help a sister out. I want to be the honorary bat girl for the San Francisco Giants, so I need you to vote for me.

Every year holds a contest, in which people share their stories about “going to bat against breast cancer.” The winner gets two tickets to the Mother’s Day game, and they get a special shout out on the field. I entered last year, but I didn’t win. Let’s see if I can win this year. I’ll wear my orange wig.

The San Francisco Giants mean a lot to me. They have helped me through both of my fights with breast cancer. They are the very best distraction, and they give me something else to talk about other than cancer. I went to a few games last year during chemotherapy I wore my orange wig. In fact, I wore my orange wig to chemotherapy. I wore that orange wig a lot.

Orange wig and good buddy Kate at the Giants game last summer.

Orange wig and good buddy Kate at the Giants game last summer.

I’ve gone to bat against breast cancer twice and won. I think I’m a worthy candidate … if I don’t say so myself. It’s super easy to vote.

You click this link to vote:

Then you select the SF Giants as the team, and then click the arrows below until you see “Sonia M.” – it’s a photo of me in my orange wig and good buddy Corso at a Giants game last year.


You can click the photo and read the essay if you like, and then vote for me. See? It’s so easy.

Thank you in advance for voting. I would totally vote for you. I really, truly appreciate it, you guys. Also, go Giants!


Texting about baseball

Yeah, so, welcome to the first installment of “Eric & Sonia Text About Baseball.”

My brother Eric and I like to text each other during San Francisco Giants games. It’s usually just random comments about the game or how about shitty the commercials are. I would say that the thing we text about the most is Joaquin Arias, one of the Giants players.

He’s not a terrible player. He’s a perfectly passable player. He’s had his moments. He’s certainly better at baseball than us. The comments are along the lines of “Oh good, they put Arias in. We’re sure to win now” and “Arias, wheee.”

The following is a text conversation between me and Eric that started with Arias and the laughably disappointing Casey McGehee and turned into a discussion about about the all-star game. It demonstrates how very intelligent our baseball conversations get. I’m the green chat bubble, and Eric is gray.

text1 text2


Orange is the new red

Yeah, so, the day before my next round of chemo is usually a pretty anxious day for me. I start to fret about how it will go, how bad the nausea will be, etc.

Luckily for me, good buddy Kate decided to distract me. Since my white blood counts are up the day before chemo, there is no reason why I can’t go out and about. She took the day off from work and got us tickets to the San Francisco Giants vs. Dodgers game. It was a day game, so I didn’t have to worry about getting cold, or staying out late. In fact, the weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was out, but it wasn’t too hot. Good thing, because I was wearing my fabulous orange wig.

Orange wig alert!

Orange wig alert!

Let me tell you something, if you want attention at a Giants game, wear an orange wig. I was very surprised by the amount of attention I got in this wig. And one point Kate said, “It’s like walking around with someone famous.” Everyone looks at you. Most of the attention was good attention. I got a lot of “I love your wig.” I got a few “Is that your real hair?” To which I replied, “You know it is.” A security guard said my orange wig went up to 11, and I heard more than a few older men whisper to their wives, “You should get a wig like that.”

It was a lot of attention. More than I’m used to, that’s for sure. If I was a single lady, I would buy tickets to the Giants’ Single Night and rock this wig. Of course, I think the gentleman suitors would be disappointed to discover what’s under the wig, but oh well.

Of course with all the good attention came some questionable attention. We were sitting in the bleachers, and around the 9th inning, the man behind me decided that his beer-courage had kicked in and he could talk to me. “I wish I could meet a girl with orange hair,” he shouted behind me.

I turned around a politely smiled. “I’m sure there are plenty of women here with orange hair today. Good luck,” I said.

The guy took this as some sort of hint that I wanted a back rub. Umm, no.

“No, thank you. No touching,” I said.

Then he reached out and stroked my wig.

“No touching, please,” I said.

“Don’t worry. I won’t snatch your wig off your head,” he replied.

“You better not. You should not,” I replied.

Kate asked me if I wanted to move, but I felt like he was done. If he is embarrassed that he got rejected by the girl in the orange wig, he could move. I can’t imagine how awful that man would have felt if he had pulled that wig off my head. I’m not some cute little blonde under this orange wig. I’m a chemo patient. You definitely don’t get into heaven snatching a wig off of a chemo patients head.

So anyway, we stayed in our seats for the entire game that went extra innings, and it was a big win! The Giants swept the Dodgers, and all was right with the world.

Big thanks to Kate for the tickets to the game, the delicious Ghirardelli sundae (because I can’t have beer right now – sigh) and the Lyft home (to save me from a crowded Bart train). I’m so lucky to have such awesome friends.



The pros and cons of chemo

Yeah, so, lately I’ve been having to say no to things that I want to say yes to, and I hate that shit.

Since 7 to 10 days out from chemo is when my white blood cells are their lowest, and I’m not aching to spend more time in the hospital, I’m having to decline invitations to events that I would love to attend.

For example, this weekend I had to say no to a friend’s wedding. Sadly, a wedding is the type of event in which sick people will attend no matter what. I couldn’t go and risk exposure to even something as silly as a cold. It was a super bummer. Mighty, mighty good man David went without me on Saturday, and I was probably the most depressed I had been in a while. I love weddings. I was planning to spend the evening feeling really sorry for myself, but luckily, I have awesome friends. Good buddy Kate came over. We ordered Chinese food and made fun of watched “Step Up,” which is a pretty fine way to spend a Saturday evening if you ask me. Big thanks to Kate for hanging out. She’s good people.

Today, someone offered me tickets to the San Francisco Giants Opening Day game. Pre-chemo Sonia would have replied, “Oh hell yeah!” But Chemo Sonia had to be responsible and decline. I’m still in the hot zone, and that ballpark would be filled with “Outbreak” monkeys. I will be watching the game from the safety of my couch. Obviously.

The traditional SF Giants Opening Day Selfie.

The traditional SF Giants Opening Day Selfie.

This reminds me: There are still a few days left to vote for me for the San Francisco Giants’ Honorary Bat Girl contest. Please, please, please vote for me! It’s easy. Just click here, pick the San Francisco Giants, and there’s a photo of me and Calvin on page 4. Then you vote for me. I really want to stand on that field in my orange wig. Thank you for your votes!

So anyway, since I’m generally a “always look on the bright side of life” person. I’ve been working on a list of chemotherapy positives.

  • Saying no to events I really want to attend sucks, BUT, now I can get out of attending pretty much any event I don’t feel like going to. Chemo is a great excuse to skip any event from baptisms to your friend’s poetry reading.
  • It only takes me a few minutes to get ready to go anywhere now. Brush my teeth, put on lipstick, slip on wig: I’m ready.
  • When I had hair, I used a flat iron every day. My hair was not that naturally straight and shiny. Sorry if I fooled you. Anyway, every day I did the same little dance when left the house. I would get halfway down the stairs and think, “Did I leave the straighter on?” Then I would go back upstairs, go into the house, upset the dog and check the straighter – only to discover every time that I had, in fact, turned it off. Well, thanks to having no hair to straighten, I’m no longer doing this paranoid dance every day. The flat iron is gathering dust in a drawer.
  • I don’t have to shave my armpits or legs anymore. I’m like one of those creepy hairless cats now.
  • I haven’t lost my eyelashes or eyebrows yet. *knocks on wood* *immediately loses eyelashes and eyebrows*
  • My skin is really soft. I don’t know what’s up with that.
  • Of course, the biggest positive is the chemotherapy is killing any cancer cells that thought they could run and hide in my body.



Chemo went much better this time, you guys

Yeah, so, chemo #2 went much better this time. Well, I mean as well as can be expected when doctors are injecting a bunch of poison into your body.

Unlike last time, there was no vomiting. Yay for no vomiting! The Pharmacist came up to visit me in my chemo chair, and we mapped out a medication-taking schedule that really worked. I felt a little nauseous at times, and I slept a lot, but no vomiting.

Scheduling out the drugs really helped David to help me really stay on top of the meds. One of the meds I have to take this time is a Neupogen shot, which is supposed to boost white bloods cells. I have to do this because last time I got a super-low white blood cell count and had to spend a couple of days in the hospital. It sucks. The only I’ve ever given myself is a tequlia shot, and it didn’t involved needles. It’s a little scary to poke yourself with a needle, but I did the first shot yesterday, and it wasn’t so bad.

Oh, and, this time around, I’m off work. In fact, I’m off work until chemo is over in mid-August. Luckily, my work has a really good short-term disability plan for things like this. It’s a huge relief to be able to rest and recover, and not stress about work.

Also, during chemo weekends, Calvin is going to stay with my mom. It saves Calvin from having to hang around Sick Mommy. Sick Mommy is a drag. This weekend, he had way more fun at my mom’s house and visiting his cousins than he would have hanging around the house with Sick Mommy. Of course, David is here, but he’s distracted. Chemo wife and busy 3 year-old is a lot to have on your plate at one time

Calvin had such a good time with his cousins that he was willing to have his photo taken with the creepy Easter Bunny at the mall for the first time


Calvin only looks slightly concerned in this photo.


Also, one more thing, voting is still open until April 16 for the Honorary Bat Girl Contest for the San Francisco Giants, and I still really want this, so please, please, PLEASE vote for me. Look! I’m wearing my orange wig and everything, you guys.


Let’s go, Giants!

You can learn all the details riiight here.


Vote for me for Honorary Bat Girl for the San Francisco Giants

Yeah, so, I really want to be an honorary bat girl at the San Francisco Giants’ Mother Day game, and you can help me make it happen. is holding a contest, in which people share their stories about “going to bat against breast cancer.” The winner gets two tickets to the Mother’s Day game, and they get a special shout out on the field. I’m not going to lie, I want this.

I’ve gone to bat against breast cancer twice. The San Francisco Giants have unknowingly really helped me throughout my fights. They give me something else to think about, something else to talk about. They are the very best distraction. I am going to be doing chemo throughout the regular season this year, and I’m glad that I will have baseball to watch while I’m recovering. On top of the whole breast cancer thing, it’s a Mother’s Day game, and we’ve had a big year on the parenthood front as well with Calvin’s autism diagnosis coming just two weeks before my breast cancer diagnosis. As a team, the MansTracys have really had to step up to the plate. I think winning something like this would mean a lot to me, and my family and friends who have helped me along the way.

So anyway, voting goes like this:

You click this link:

You select the Giants as the team, and then you will see this. “Sonia” – that’s me and Calvin in the photo.

voteAnd then you click VOTE. It’s pretty easy, and you can vote as many times as you want. If you so desire, you can read my little essay by clicking on the photo of me and Calvin. It will open up and look like this:


I’ll post the essay here for you, too.

Breast cancer is a real jerk with bad timing.

I had just met the man who would become my husband when I was first diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer in 2009. He proposed just a few days before my left breast mastectomy. Five years later, even though I was taking Tamoxifen, a cancer-fighting drug, I was diagnosed with stage 3 invasive breast cancer in my right breast. This was just two weeks after our 3-year-old son, Calvin, was diagnosed with autism. I had a mastectomy of my right breast in January.

I started chemotherapy in early March, the same week my son started work with behavioral and speech therapists. My chemotherapy will run through almost all of this year’s baseball season, ending in August. This means I will be rooting for the San Francisco Giants from my chemo level seat, instead of club level seat. And I think it goes without saying that I bought an orange wig for game days.

Going through chemotherapy is a bit like having a bad baseball season; you learn who your true fans are. And I have amazing fans. My friends and family are constantly waving their rally towels for me. I blog about all my experiences at my blog, so people I don’t really know from all over the country are cheering me on. Whenever I step up to the plate for my next round of chemo, I think of my fans. We have a lot going on in our household, but – just like the San Francisco Giants – we take it all on as a team. Together. And just like the San Francisco Giants, I never stop believing that I can do this; that we can do this.

As a breast cancer survivor and a mother, I would be honored to serve as an honorary bat girl during the Mother’s Day game for the San Francisco Giants.

Thank you in advance for voting. I really, truly appreciate it. Also, go Giants!


Exercising is hard, you guys

Yeah, so, I couldn’t make my usual yoga class on Sunday, so I checked out another yoga studio that is nearby.

The class description on the website said the room was heated to 80 degrees. I figured that was doable, because that’s not bikram yoga hot, which I did a few years ago, and I managed to survive.

So, it turns out this class was way more than 80 degrees. It was bikram hot. And, like I said, I hadn’t done bikram yoga in like five years. I was not mentally prepared for that kind of heat. About 20 minutes into the class I realized I was in a class that wasn’t really right for me. At 30 minutes, I was already struggling to keep up, and I was breathing hard and sweating like this guy. I was a wreck.


One other person in the class was struggling like me, and she was a 10-year old girl who was taking the class with her mother. She was struggling because she didn’t know what a Warrior One or Warrior Two pose is, stuff like that. I was struggling because I’m not in good shape anymore. Also, I’m lazy.

I debated rolling up my mat and sneaking out, but instead I decided to stick it out. I beat cancer. I pushed a baby out of my body without performance-enhancing drugs. I’ve defended myself against people who love Karl Rove and roller bladers. I can handle a stupid hot yoga class. I did what I could, and I got into downward-facing dog or child’s pose when I couldn’t keep up. I hadn’t attended a class like that in a long time, and I can’t expect to walk into a class like that and be super good at it. That’s like expecting to see a hilarious episode of “The Walking Dead.” It’s just not going to happen.

So anyway, that’s my super-exciting story for today. I know, right? My life is a roller coaster ride of routine, mediocrity and beer. Jealous?

And now, for something you’ll really like. Mighty, mighty good man David’s amazing drawings of rejected San Francisco Giants floats.




Yes. Yes. YES!

Yeah, so, the San Francisco Giants won the World Series. NBD.


It was such a stressful game. But, man oh man, Madison Bumgarner is a damn stud. He’s the man, he’s the man, he’s the man. Amazing.

I don’t want brag, but I’m clearly a baseball genius. Where’s my ESPN show?


After the game, mighty, mighty good man David, Calvin and I went out onto our deck and watched all the illegal fireworks. Later, after Calvin went to bed, we listened to all the sirens, because people are the worst.

A more accurate headline would be “Stupid Assholes Ruin Everything.”

Stupid assholes pretending to be SF Giants fans decided that winning the World Series is a great opportunity to destroy MUNI buses, set fires, shoot people, vandalize local businesses and act like stupid assholes. Wheee.  Seriously, those people should be so ashamed of themselves. How embarrassing. Instead they are probably uploading photos of them acting like dicks to Facebook and tagging all photos, so their stupid asshole friends can like them. Ugh.

As a San Francisco Giants, I would like to state that real San Francisco Giants fans do not the destroy San Francisco after a victory.


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Let’s do this, Giants!

Yeah, so, the World Series starts today.

My team, the San Francisco Giants, is playing the Kansas City Royals. The Royals are a perfectly fine team that now must be destroyed. On the surface, the Royals are a tough team to hate. They haven’t won a championship in 29 years. If they were playing the Dodgers or the Cardinals in the World Series, I would probably root for them. But they’re not. They’re playing my team, so … you suck, Royals.

Let’s dig a little deeper and feed our anger, shall we? Kansas City, Missouri is home to the headquarters of Applebee’s. Did you know that? Applebee’s … BOOOOOOO! Also, the 1983 TV movie “The Day After” was filmed in Kansas City. That movie scared the shit out of my younger sister. She didn’t sleep for a week. Screw you, Kansas City! Don’t you just hate Wal-Mart? Sure, we all do. Well, the Royals are owned by the former president and CEO of Wal-Mart, and he’s a terrible person. True story. You can go to hell, Royals!

So, yeah, in 2010, mighty, mighty good man David and I went to the World Series, and it was awesome. In 2012, we watched the games at home, because instead of spending our money on super-cool fun stuff like World Series tickets we decided to have a baby. Wah wah. This year, I’m not 100 percent that we’re not going to go to the World Series. We are casually entertaining the idea, and we will be browsing Stubhub all week while debating it. Our debate will most likely end with us not going because World Series tickets are really expensive, and World Series tickets plus a babysitter are really, really expensive.

I’m fine with that. I just want to watch my team win the World Series. I don’t mind watching it from the comfort of my own home. It’s nice here. I have a perfectly formed groove in the couch after years of watching TV, and we have tasty beer here. I’m going to make ballpark food for dinner all week long: Nachos with super-processed cheese, peanuts, hot dogs and sundaes.

So anyway, stay tuned to my Twitter for all kinds of assy World Series related tweets and my Instagram for all kinds of photos of fancy beer that I will be drinking during the games. Also, I will post photos of me looking like this:


But I will really look like this:


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Star Wars Day

Yeah, so, every season the San Francisco Giants have “Star Wars Day” at the ballpark.

Obviously, I go to this game. I mean, I kinda have to, right? The main things I’m geeky about are “Star Wars” and the San Francisco Giants. This is my day.

This year was a crazy good giveaway: an R2-D2 beanie. They were giving them out to the first 10,000 fans, and I needed to make sure I was one of the 10,000. So, my mom, because she is the nicest lady in the world, hopped on BART and was at our house a little after 10 a.m., so that mighty, mighty good man David and I could get to the ballpark early.

We were at the ballpark about 90 minutes before the game started, because we are dorks. We weren’t the only dorks, though. There were A LOT of people in line before us. Still, I am happy to report that we got our beanies. David is giving his to our son, because David is a grownup, whereas I’m a selfish dick dork.


R2-D2 beanie achievement unlocked!

David and I didn’t dress up in “Star Wars” costumes; however, we did wear our “Star Wars” T-shirts. We even dressed up The Kid in a “Star Wars” shirt, even though he wasn’t going to the game.

Using The Force to play Endless Alphabet.

Using The Force to play Endless Alphabet.

We saw a lot of folks in costumes at the ballpark. One of the things that kinda bums me out about “Star Wars” is — for ladies — there’s pretty much only Princess Leia (or Queen Amidala if you are into those lame prequels that I have had Eternal Sunshine-d from my mind.) I was glad to see a few ladies dressed as R2-D2 and some random jedi knights. I hope we get a little more variety in the new “Star Wars” sequels. There must be more than one or two women in a galaxy far, far away.

So anyway, we saw a lot of costumes. I felt particularly bad for the people that dressed up as ewoks or Chewbecca, because — in a San Francisco rarity — it was actually warm that day. Seriously, we left the house without sweatshirts, you guys! We saw a few people wearing the full-on Darth Vader costume, and I kept thinking, “They must be sweating like crazy in that costume, and it must smell terrible in there.”

An amazing view of AT&T Park ... and my Star Wars shoes.

An amazing view of AT&T Park … and my Star Wars shoes.

Sadly, this was the only Giants game we have been to this season. It’s shameful, really. We are going to an A’s game on Saturday, and I’m hoping we can squeeze in another Giants game before the regular season is over. Obviously, the Giants will make to the playoffs, but playoff and World Series tickets are really expensive.

David and I at the 2010 World Series.

David and I at the 2010 World Series.