by syaffolee

30S Ribosome, initiation factor one, tRNA!

I can’t get the music out of my head. This morning, I watched a really old movie made at Stanford. It was an interpretive dance routine about protein synthesis done to poetry and hippie rock. It was like Sesame Street on crack. Truly a classic.

The world would be a much happier place if we did interpretive dances for everything. I know, I know, I’m a total geek.

Stop codon! Stop codon! Stop codon….

On to somewhat more serious topics:
With Pancakes, Every Day Is Sunday. Recipes? I don’t need no stinkin’ recipes. If I had to use them, I never follow them to the letter. I approximate, substitute, eliminate, add. One cup of flour? I just dump some in until it looks okay to me. Of course, with my method, there’s a greater probability for screwing up.
Enneagram Test. They said I was a type four. But upon more careful examination, I have the same score for being a type nine. And the rest of the scores look like a bell curve peaking at four. I also took a different enneagram test several months ago and also scored for type four. I wonder what I will score if I take the test a few years from now.
Gingerbread. I was curious about its origins despite the fact that I don’t like gingerbread.