Alright, I think you depressies are kind of missing the point.
Its not that you should run around saying "WHOOHOO, I stubbed my toe on a bookshelf! Hey look, somebody's sleeping with my wife! Sweet!" The whole point of "celebrating life" is that you are alive. Would you rather be bored your whole damn existence, no life to live, just sitting in blackness? At the very least, treat life as a time of passing. Enjoy it (as best you can) while you have it. I know (we all know) that it isn't fun and games twenty-four seven, but... damn, do you ever think about what you'll regret on your deathbed? I've got a fucking lot, and I don't want any more. Somebody wise once said "Happiness is never stopping to ask if you are." If you would stop thinking with a head on top of your head, you can find a lot to be happy about.
And depression is incredibly self-centered (I know that it happens to everybody, that sometimes you can't control it, because hell, the human itself is only that, its self). I know that's a bit brutally honest, but that's my opinion. And I've been there way too many times, so I know a bit about it.
The moral of this incredibly long post that went through one too many tangents: Mmhmm. Life is good, right? Kay.
Oh, and:
Excellent. That one was deviously hilarious, and I'm not sure if those words were ever meant to be used together.