Sitting cross-legged on my living room sofa here at Georgetown, Jenny Cancelado holds in her right hand twelve inches of vibrating, scintillating and writhing purple plastic. “This,” she beams, “is the Endless Pleasure.

Is the road to becoming a doctor all that it’s made up to be? “I don’t really think that there’s anything to prepare you for med school… You really have to like it; you really have to want it. It can’t be something where you saw an episode of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ and say, ‘Oh, that looks awesome! I really want to do that!’ Because it’s not going to be like that.”

Until now, life as a would-be dancer at Georgetown was not unlike life in the state of nature: nasty, brutish and — if you were not among the best of the best — ego-crushingly short.

Jon Gann was fed up. He was a filmmaker, and he had seen the death of his craft: the modern film festival. “I traveled the world attending film festivals, and most of them are about parties and money,” he said and then paused, reconsidering. “Make that money and parties, actually. Either way, they’re not about films, and they’re definitely not about the filmmakers.”

You’re the typical socially conscious Georgetown student. You’re down with the whole eco-friendly thing, and might have even stayed awake through Al Gore’s two-hour PowerPoint on the subject. There are a lot of ways to step up your green game, but perhaps the least painless (and the one most likely to simultaneously up your indie street-cred) is shopping at a second-hand clothing store.