Adam and I randomly walked through an open house in Berkeley yesterday.

"I could see us buying," I said after we left, "someday."

"When it makes sense," he said.

As we walked, I started babbling about how I'd need to be more stable -- no, not that, just have more savings, no, not exactly --

"I just don't want it to be yours," I said, "and I'd be sponging."

"We'll be married," he said. "It'll be ours."