This week, I went to a party thrown by a New York City deli to celebrate a specific varietal of herring. I was keen to attend because the concept of a herring party seemed delightful — an occasion for revelry that I’d never considered. I was intrigued to learn that in the Netherlands, this particular herring is traditionally fished for only a few months, when the herring’s body fat reaches at least 16 percent, for maximum flavor. The Dutch even have an annual festival, Flag Day, to honor the opening of herring season.

I had never celebrated herring before, but, then again, I haven’t celebrated most things. We tend to confine our parties to milestones (birthdays, holidays, housewarmings, weddings) and cultural events (the Oscars, the Super Bowl). Why must it be this way? Sure, if every day is a special occasion, then no day is, but it seems unnecessary to let the calendar totally dictate when we raise a glass or kick up our heels. Also, it’s sort of boring to glorify the same things year after year, when there’s so much else out there that’s worthy.

Once you begin considering all the micro-occasions deserving of a rager or at least an intimate soiree, you realize you’ve been letting so many opportunities for merrymaking just sail right by. A New Haircut Party sounds fun (you tried a new style, you look great) as does a My Back Pain Finally Went Away Party (has there ever been a more profound reason to exult?). New tattoo, old tattoo removal; the puppy spent a full night in the crate; no cavities — let’s rejoice!

Commemorating the completion of something you’ve been procrastinating on forever seems only sensible: Come over for cocktails, I dry-cleaned my wool coat. Someone alerted me to the existence of a Forcing Party, which is part celebration, part motivation — friends gather and force one another to do things they’ve been putting off, like renewing their passports or answering emails. Genius! A party can be productive as well as fun.

There are those who hate parties, or who believe that the number of get-togethers that issue from the standard occasions are more than plenty. To them I say: Fine, but even thinking about the little things you might celebrate is a satisfying gratitude exercise. What are the good things that are going unacknowledged in your life? Where are you limiting or postponing delight unnecessarily?

I recently told a friend that I could think of nothing more luxurious and blissfully absurd than a seafood tower. “Well, your birthday just passed, but next year?” he said. Ha! As if I’m going to wait a year to have a seafood tower. Yes, it’s expensive, but I did just make a doctor’s appointment that I’d been putting off since February, and that seems ample reason to assemble a group of friends, order up a tower and celebrate.