So Real Life intervened last week in the form of the plague, and Villa Angie was torn asunder. We are just now managing to square our shoulders and shake off the gloom. In my plague-ridden state, I still had the presence of mind to send DH out for my copy of Rites of Spring (Break) the day it came out, and reading it got me through. That and the phenergan shot. Ouch! Unfortunately, it's taken till now to review it. So this comes after much grinning, applauding, and re-reading of the most favorite of parts (of which there were several). In this third installment of the Ivy League Novels, Our Girl Amy finds herself sludging through the gloom that is New Haven in late winter/early spring, wondering who named her whipping girl in the latest intercollegiate secret society rumble. Meanwhile, her ex-friend-with-benefits makes a sudden reappearance in her life and the already nigh unto crippling confusion factor gets ratcheted up a dozen or so notches. Fortunately, the annual Rose ...